The Place He Called Mine
by Mimiminaj
Summary: Stiles wakes up in the middle of the night. He's still on Derek's lap, and the rest of the pack are still sleeping around him. But Derek's face is so peaceful right now, and he really just wants to trace it with his hands, and then maybe his lips. So he does. Pure fluff because I think we all need it right now.


_A/N - So I think we all really just need some fluff right now. The last couple of episodes (hell, this whole season) have been heartbreaking for Stiles and Derek, and some good quality late night snuggles and kisses are needed. _

* * *

Stiles wasn't quite sure what had woken him up. He's pretty sure he should be dead to the world right now. He's probably averaged, what, like four hours of sleep this week? Now, here he was, comfortable as fuck on Derek's lap, and waking up because something must have gone _click_ or some damn cupboard _creaked_.

Whatever. He was up now. He lifted his head from the place between Derek's neck and shoulder (a place he now called _mine_) and glanced around the room.

_Lucky bastards_, he couldn't help thinking. The rest of his pack seemed to have no problem staying asleep through the night. Stiles glanced over to the TV screen. They had put the movie on repeat, somebody thankfully muting it during the night, and Stiles quickly recognized the credits.

He smiled sadly. Thinking about how the pack wanted, no _needed_, the TV to stay on tugged at his heart. Ever since the alpha pack and the vampires, most of them grew to be cautious of the dark.

All right, fine, _scared_ of the dark. Nobody blamed or ridiculed anybody for it. They'd all been caught off guard or, in some of their cases, _captured_, whilst in the darkness. The alpha pack was cruel. Vampires were crueler. They thrived in the night.

So if keeping the TV on and casting a glow around the living room made the pack feel safer, than fuck anybody who judged them. Until you've walked in the dark, until you've been _taken_, you can't comment.

Stiles sighed. Why was he dwelling on this? It was depressing and that was the past. They had survived _both_ of those things and they could _keep_ surviving.

Stiles suddenly remembered where he was. He slowly turned his eyes back to Derek. His face was beautiful when he slept. The warm glow of the TV let Stiles see just how carefree and relaxed Derek looked.

This made him smile a true smile.

The two of them had only been going out for a few weeks now. Stiles was still getting used to the fact that Derek was his, and that he could touch Derek whenever he wanted, and that, during movie nights like these, Stiles could curl up in his boyfriends lap and feel protected when arms wrapped around him.

Being this close, right now, still took his breath away. He still felt honored that Derek let him in, after Kate and especially after Jennifer, and that he honest to god trusted Stiles.

He couldn't believe that, if he wanted to, he could run his fingers across Derek's face. Kiss his lips. Snuggle closer.

He realized he wanted to.

His hand shook (yes, their relationship was still _that_ new) as he raised his fingers up to Derek's check.

He brushed his fingertips against stubble, then down along his jaw. On the other side of Derek's face, Stiles weaseled his nose in the short hair and inhaled Derek's scent. He felt like the werewolf now, craving and needing the others smell.

His one hand continued to rub lines and circles against Derek's cheek/jaw, before the intensity of this situation became too much for Stiles and he moved his face till his lips were against the stubble.

He kissed the scruff on Derek's cheek softly, loving the little pricks against his lips. He continued putting small kisses down his jaw line, ending up on this chin. He giggled. He was making out with Derek's face, no, Derek's _stubble_, and he couldn't be happier.

He pulled back. He felt his breath leave him. He didn't think it was possible for Derek to look more beautiful than he already did, but he was wrong. Sometime between Stiles closing his eyes to kiss at his face to now (a span of about 40 seconds), Derek had gone from beautiful to #beautiful.

Thanks Mariah for the awesome addition to the English dictionary. Everybody knows that the difference between beautiful and #beautiful is like the difference between good and amazing. Totally describes two different things.

So yes, Stiles had to fight to get his breath back because Derek was being all #beautiful and Stiles just really wanted to be thrilled right now.

Even though he probably already was being thrilled, given his heart was pounding out of his chest and he feels like his body is on fire. But, seriously, who can blame him. He's sitting on Derek's lap, playing with and kissing the man's face, while it's like three o'clock in the morning and his entire pack is asleep around him.

He takes a huff of air and tries to calm himself down. He moves his fingertips from Derek's cheek to his eyebrows, running the length of each. He wishes Derek wouldn't glare all the time. Or scowl. Because right now…well right now his eyebrows were perfect. No worry lines. No anger lines.

Stiles traces his fingers down the top of Derek's nose. When he reaches the tip, he moves over to an eyelid. His touch is as light as a feather, and he strokes both curves before he moves down to Derek's' lips.

He brushes over them, circling them slowly and lazily.

And because he's _Stiles_, he takes the finger and sucks it into his mouth. He forces himself not to moan (he's doing this in front of like 7 people!). When he's satisfied his finger is thoroughly soaked, he slips it out of his mouth and places it back against Derek's lips.

He starts circling again, smearing his own saliva over Derek's mouth and actually groan's when he sees Derek's lips start to glisten.

Okay, if he was #beautiful before he must be beautiful now, and he really hopes that is better than # because he wants to treat Derek right. Even if this is only in his head, he still wants to be thinking the correct thoughts.

His hand shook as he gently lowered it away from Derek's face. He placed his head slowly back into the place he called _mine_, and let out a shaky…something. It could have been a moan. It could have been a laugh. It could have been a sigh. He didn't know. Everything was just so intimate, especially since…

"You're really good at pretending to be asleep."

Stiles waited for Derek to answer. He grinned when he didn't. He started wiggling a bit, poking him in the side.

"Yes I knew you were awake, now give up the act!"

He lifted his head and looked at Derek's face just as the man was slowly opening his eyes. His lips, god, the lips that were coated with Stiles' saliva(!), were curling into a smile.

He was opening his mouth to speak before Stiles' felt a buzz of emotion and quickly put his finger back against Derek's lips, silencing him.

"Wait," he quickly murmured. "Before you say anything…thank you. Just…thank you. You probably thought it was weird that I traced your damn face in the middle of the night…and kissed your stubble…and rubbed my spit on your…_anyway_, thank you. I'm weird, I know."

He looked at Derek, cringing almost. He didn't know what to expect.

Derek's hand slowly slid up Stiles' body (where had it been all this time?) before tugging on his wrist and pulling his finger away form Derek's mouth. Stiles gasped as Derek took that hand and intertwined their fingers.

"You don't need to thank me. It felt nice."

"Yeah?" Stiles found him self asking.

"Yep."

Stiles suddenly blushed. "You're lying, aren't you? You woke up to my hands basically having their way with your face, and you probably got super uncomfortable. But you didn't want to say anything because, hello, what would you say to waking up to some guy tracing your face? And now you have to act like you're not freaking out for the sake of the pack, but you really are, and holy shit I'm sorry."

He dropped his face back into Derek's neck, groaning because wow, what was he doing?

His head was shaking. Why was his head shaking? Oh, because Derek's shoulder was shaking.

"Why are you laughing at me?" Stiles murmured against Derek's neck.

"Because everything you just said was completely ridiculous and not true. So not true, in fact, that I'm going to lean my head back and pretend I'm asleep again. And this time, I want you to trace my face with your lips."

Stiles head whipped up and stared, wide eyed, at Derek's face. Derek's head lolled backwards and his eyes closed. His mouth turned into a straight line. Almost straight, that is.

"There is definitely some curvature to those lips, bud. You're trying not to smile. That wouldn't happen if you were asleep."

Derek must have been holding back and building up his humor for a few weeks, because the next thing he did was actually funny.

He fake snored.

The sound was so ugly and so beautiful (but not beautiful, that was reserved for Derek's face) that Stiles couldn't help but laugh.

"Fine. I'll kiss trace your face," he whispered.

He leaned forward, placing his lips on Derek's chin. He moved up, neglecting Derek's lips in favor for the middle of his forehead. He placed slow, soft kisses down till he was at the tip of Derek's nose. He placed his lips on both of Derek's eyelids before moving down to Derek's lips. He paused before they connected.

He shifted, kissing Derek's stubble once again. Only he wasn't kissing, he was nibbling. Then sucking.

And now he was flat out licking Derek's face, loving the way it was prickly and hot against his tongue.

Derek moaned. He moaned! For the first time in their weeks long relationship, Stiles made Derek moan!

He continued licking. Down from what could be considered sideburns, lower across his jaw, and then back up the other side.

"Stiles."

And yes. That right there was complete _need_ in Derek's voice. He moved his lips off Derek's stubble and rested them on Derek's. He kissed him lazily, mumbling, "I didn't mean for this to get so…heated."

"Are you complaining?"

Stiles was about to say hell no when Derek's mouth suddenly stilled and tensed. Stiles did the same.

"Scott is starting to stir," He explained. "And so is Lydia."

Stiles gave a small sigh and nodded. He dropped his head back into the place he called _mine_. He smiled and nibbled against Derek's neck before he settled down.

They were quiet for a few moments before Stiles giggled.

"I can totally feel that, by the way," he murmured. He was forcing himself not to wiggle his butt, because he was pretty sure that would not help Derek's problem and only cause his problem to ache harder.

Derek sighed. "Sorry. You're just…you."

"Yep…I'm me. Stiles Stilinksi. And you're Derek, the man who can't keep his boner under control."

Derek laughed. He shifted and pulled Stiles closer to himself, wrapping his arms around him and holding him tightly.

"I don't even have the energy to protest. Fine. I can't control my boner. Shame on me."

Stiles felt Derek kiss the top of his head.

He smiled, for what felt like the 20th time that night, against Derek's neck.

He was beginning to rethink the place he called _mine_. Because Derek's lips, placed on his forehead, definitely felt like _mine_. And Derek's arms, wrapped tightly around him, definitely felt like _mine_. The smell of Derek, totally intoxicating right now, sure as hell felt like _mine _too.

"What are you thinking about right now?" Derek asked. He traced his hands up and down Stiles' back.

"I was thinking about the place I call _mine_."

Derek's hand slowed. "And what's that place called?"

Stiles buried deeper into Derek's neck.

"He's called Derek Hale. And I think I'm in love with him."

Derek's hand didn't even tense.

"That's good. Because I'm pretty sure he's in love with you too."

* * *

Stiles woke up slowly. The first thing he registered was a soft something stroking his eyebrows. It only took him a minute to register that that something was Derek's' fingers.

He smiled as he slurred out "move on to the lips part."

Derek laughed.

Stiles decided that that laugh went into the _mine_ category too.

* * *

_A/N - Tell me what you thought : ). _


End file.
